


An Angel in the Wings

by Klicesgirl16



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2532191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klicesgirl16/pseuds/Klicesgirl16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara drags the doctor to visit her old aunt at a retirement home, where the Doctor overhears several residents talking about their "guardian angel" who comes to listen to their prayers at night. The Doctor gets suspicious and immediately warns Clara of the danger, though she doesn't believe him...only to discover that not only is there a Weeping Angel in her midst, but that not all is as it seems. Who will save WHO? Who even needs saving?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Garden Angel

The Doctor is fiddling with the TARDIS, making it list slightly to the left. He pulls another lever and it shivers slightly before righting itself. Then it overcompensates and lists heavily to the right.  
"Are you ever going to get the hang of this?" Clara scolded as she clung to a railing for dear life.  
"I have had 'the hang of this' for longer than most countries have existed!" exclaimed the Doctor haughtily. "I know what I'm doing!"  
The TARDIS lurches forward and then back again like an angered bronco.  
"If this is having 'the hang of it', then I would hate to have seen you 'breaking it in'!" Clara cried out. "I can't make up my mind over which of the two of you is plain barmy!"  
The Doctor lets go of the controls and allows himself to practically fall to the other side. He extends his arm and catches hold of a lever, using it to pull himself up and reach more controls. After trying several button and lever combinations, he kicks the lower console and the TARDIS rights itself.  
"See?" he leans over smugly. "Perfectly under control."  
"Then what's that incessant ringing?" Clara puts her hands on her hips.  
The Doctor looked worried. He places his head just over the console and starts listening. He strode over to a chest on the lower level and started flinging things from it. Three glowing yellow orbs, a Cyberman arm and a Dalek plunger later, he retrieved a normal-looking stethoscope. He came back to the console and lay the stethoscope pad and listened.  
"Perhaps both," she mumbled as she watched the Doctor work.  
"Well whatever it is, it isn't in the center console" The Doctor straightened up, furrowing his brow. "Maybe it's the wiring on the upper chamber?" He looks up at the large cables hanging from the ceiling and makes a face.  
Clara looks down at her phone. It is ringing. "Doctor," she says, but her Time Traveling companion has already gone to fetch a ladder. "Doctor! It's-"  
The phone stops ringing. Whoever called her went straight to voicemail. Clara goes into the correct folder and listens to the voicemail recording that is waiting for her.  
Though it's hard to hear amid the buzzing the Doctor's sonic screwdriver makes as he fiddles with the TARDIS wiring, Clara hears the following message:  
"Good morning, sweetie! It's just your old Tessie. I was just wondering how you were doing. I'm told you are on holiday. I hope that's going right well for you. I'm sure when you return you'll tell me all about it! I'll talk to you later in the day perhaps. Maybe then you can tell me all about your 'friend' you brought to Christmas. Goodbye, Clara dear!"  
_Oh dear_ , Clara thought. _I haven't spent any time with Aunt Tessie for quite some time! And she thinks that the Doctor is my boyfriend!_ "Doctor!" Clara calls out.  
"Not now, Clara," the Doctor says as things started falling dangerously from the ceiling. "The ringing's stopped, but I can't be sure if it's the Wibbly Actuator or a squeeky Wobbly valve-"  
"It was my phone, you adorable dimwit! We have to visit my aunt Tessie."  
"'We'?" the Doctor asked, tangling himself amidst the cables and falling to a near-eye-level height. "Oh no, I went to one holiday meal and that is quite enough. I think we should break up."  
Her eyes brightened. "By saying we should break up, are you implying we are an item? Because if that's the case I have so many pet names prepared that I haven't gotten the chance to use."  
"I'm busy!"  
"Yes, I can see how tangled up in your work you are," Clara smirked as the Doctor tried to free himself. "But Doctor, Tessie is in a nursing home and she's not...doing so well. I just want her to be happy. I want to at least see her before she...you know..."  
The Doctor only manages to grunt until he pulls a certain wire and like a loosening shoelace he is freed. He pushes the dangling cables out of the way as he approaches the console.  
"Please? It won't take long, only the afternoon."  
"A lot can be done in one afternoon," the Doctor says over his shoulders. "And there is more than one fine mess I could address by then."  
"Funny," Clara challenged, "I would think that of all people, a TIME LORD would be able to spare a few minutes for a poor, old, sickly woman."  
The Doctor sighs, his shoulders slouched with the effort. "Fine."  
Clara straightens and bounces on her heels.  
"But only an afternoon!" Clara goes to fetch the address from her bag while the Doctor checks his monitors. _Old people make me feel..._ he looked at his reflection on screen. _Ancient.'_  
The TARDIS makes a landing in the corner of a parking lot next to the dumpsters. Clara springs out while the Doctor shuffles hesitantly behind her. Clara starts talking to him, but he becomes distracted by his Sonic Screwdriver, which is making noises. "There's a lot of energy here that doesn't belong..." he murmurs.  
"Doctor?" Clara puts a hand on his arm. "Are you even listening? I said come on!" She drags him to the main office where the receptionist is waiting.  
"Name?" The woman asks.  
"Clara Oswald, and this is my boyfriend..." Clara hesitates.  
"John Smith," the Doctor smiles.  
"We're here to see Tessie Catthews?" Clara beams.  
"Lunch is at eleven thirty," the receptionist recited, "here are your name tags. We have quiet hours beginning at eight o'clock, and please, keep cell phone rings to a minimal."  
"Thank you," Clara smiled.  
"Pleasure," she winked at The Doctor. He strode uncomfortably after Clara, checking and re-checking his Sonic Screwdriver. _I can't make heads or tails of this,_ he thought, _or even arms, legs, tentacles or spines for that matter! What is causing such a tremendous build-up of potential energy...?_ Just as he went rigid from realization, Clara was greeted by a shriveled raisin, who called her by her name and was introduced to The Doctor as Aunt Tessie.  
"Clara-"  
"Doc- John," she corrected ever so deftly, "don't be rude!"  
Tessie held out her hand and the Doctor took it without much enthusiasm.  
"Clara, I need to speak to you. Now."  
She shot him a look and turned back to her aunt who was asking about her day. Meanwhile, the Doctor was checking out the windows and gathering readings from his Sonic Screwdriver. _The readings are completely negligible until we arrive here, so this is the epicenter of the readings, but how could there be...I mean, especially without anyone noticing? Then again, what better place to send people back in time and never be noticed than a place where the very old are taken by their family to die. How marvelously insidious! Clever! Excruciatingly clever. But we're in terrible, terrible danger. We need to get everyone out before it's too late..._  
"John!" Clara waved her hand in front of his face, distracting him from his conclusions. "Tessie invited us for tea. Come along."  
"So is your 'new man friend' a Doctor?" Tessie asked as they walked down a sweet little hallway that reminded The Doctor very much of a 5th century cloister where he had spent a little time as a friar. That was before the Spoonheads of course. There were tall windows that overlooked a garden with very tall hedges and arches covered in ivy.  
"Uh..." Clara stuttered. "Of sorts. He's not the surgeon-y kind, he's the traveling kind."  
"What a dear!" Tessie tittered happily. "People always need help, no matter where they are. How delightful! Does he make house calls?"  
The sonic screwdriver reached a fever pitch as they closed in on the garden. The Doctor ignored the women entirely as the color flushed from his face. _It's here. The epicenter of the energy is here in this building!_  
Tessie brought them to her room and away from the signal and started preparing the tea. As she was moving about the kitchen, The Doctor pulled Clara's sleeve in so their faces could be close together.  
"Clara," he said very seriously. "We need to cut this visit short. We are in tremendous danger."  
"Doctor," she whispered. "Tessie isn't an alien, this place isn't run by WiFi-stealing Spoonies-"  
"Spoonheads" he corrected.  
"-and we are not in danger! Could you lay off the thrilling adventure, as much as you know I'd love to join you for such things, for a single afternoon?"  
"You don't understand, you haven't really met them before," the Doctor said hastily.  
"Is Earl Gray fine? It seems I've run out of Chamomile," Tessie called from the tiny kitchen.  
"Chamomile is fine!" Clara called distractedly, eyeing the Doctor suspiciously.  
"These creatures are nothing to be trifled with. They are incredibly dangerous, I have only ever escaped them. They cannot be killed, only avoided. They've taken two of my..." he paused. The memory still burned with the sharp pangs of recency. "...two of my friends."  
"What are they?" Clara looked annoyed but intensely fascinated.  
The kettle hissed very loudly and Tessie waddled over with the water while Clara readied the mugs. Tessie sat down with them and they sipped their tea. Only Clara and the Doctor were aware of it, but the tension was palpable. "So," the old woman broke the silence. "How are things with you, John?"  
"Tense," he replied. "Right now there are lives at stake and I feel as if I'm not being taken seriously." He didn't break eye contact with Clara, who purposefully looked into her mug as she sipped.  
"Well you tell those administrators at that hospital what for," Tessie patted the table in faux-protest. "It's just not right how doctors are treated these days. Why, I have a friend named Agatha who lives upstairs who says that her son - now he's a podiatrist mind you - is constantly bumbling around trying to fill paperwork..."  
As Tessie went on, Clara and the Doctor tried to exchange glances to continue their conversation while poor Tessie remained largely unaware.  
_I can't believe you right now_ Clara seemed to be saying by slowly shaking her head and narrowing her eyes at The Doctor.  
_Me?!_ his furrowed brow and widened eyes retorted. _I am telling you of something serious and you'd rather listen to this old thing!_ he jerked his eyes towards Tessie in reference.  
_How dare you!_ Clara's eyes scrunched up.  
_Can we please talk about this? Now?_ The Doctor rolled his eyes at her.  
"...But I can tell I'm boring you two," Tessie broke their streams of thought. "So I shan't go on much longer. Surely the ramblings of an old woman are hardly worth it to you young people."  
"I'm sorry, Tessie," Clara said. "There's a lot...going on right now. I don't mean to leave you alone like this."  
"It's quite fine dear," Tessie patted her hand. "I'm not alone, in fact. Not with the Guardian Angel coming to visit every night."  
The Doctor's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Tell me about this Guardian Angel."  
"Why," Tessie, delighted to have Clara's boyfriend's attention, happily elaborated. "Near every night we put our windows up and say our prayers and tell our troubles to the angel out there, and I swear it's like she's listening to every word we say!" she chuckled. The Doctor and Clara whipped their heads towards the window, trying to get a glimpse of it.  
"Oh she isn't out now," Tessie waved them off. "But it's like she moves at night to get a better listen. We tell her our problems and it helps us sleep at night."  
"Does she always have..." the Doctor hesitated as he put his hands to his face. "Her face covered like this?"  
"Sometimes," Tessie shrugged. "I don't know how, but I swear some nights she has her hands in her lap.  
"Does she have half-folded wings and a long robe?" the panic was clear in "John"'s voice.  
"Oh, do you have one where you work?" Tessie asked.  
"Not anymore," John said flatly.  
"Well ours doesn't have wings," Tessie relented.  
"Maybe it's another kind?" Clara asked.  
"They aren't manufactured," the Doctor shook his head gravely. "They're not regular statues. They're Weeping Angels."  
"There's no need to stare," Clara muttered.  
"I need to ask the both of you to stop blinking" the Doctor got up from his seat. "Stop blinking right now. The more you blink, the more chances it gets. For your own safety, I *need* you to do as I say."  
"Is this some sort of treatment you prescribe to older women or are you barking?" Tessie looked at the Doctor aghast.  
"Treatment!" Clara blurted, trying to cover. "It's an odd treatment for...tiredness! Just keep your eyes open really wide and you stand less of a chance of falling asleep!"  
"Yes, it increases heart rate and metabolism and all that," the Doctor grumbled. He took Clara by the wrist and led her to the bathroom. He closed the door behind her.  
"Why are you scaring her?" Clara demanded. "Can't this wait?"  
"Clara, there is an unbelievable amount of potential energy here. That means there is at least one Weeping Angel, and if that's true, we better HOPE there's only one. All they have to do is touch you and they send you back in time to die before your time and then feed off of the energy produced by the removal from one's original timeline. They cannot die, they are unbelievably fast, and if you so much as blink, they can snap your neck. I have seen what these things can do, and it is anything but good. We need to leave. Now."  
"Tessie is in danger, then!" Clara said. "Do you expect me to leave her here?"  
"I don't know what we can do for them," the Doctor shrugged. "She and everyone else in here are tired, wrinkly, stubborn old people, and who knows how long this Angel has stayed around, feeding off them."  
"And what do you have against the elderly? Lost a few chess games have you?" Clara put her hands on her hips.  
"Actually one time they chased us with eyes protruding from their mouths, though it was technically a dream, but people still died and it was all very harrowing. THE POINT IS we are in over our heads as it is."  
"That's uncharacteristically cold of someone who goes by the name 'Doctor'," Clara crossed her arms. "I'm not leaving without Tessie."  
"Old people are slow, they have a hard time seeing, they have health problems and things that keep them either unaware or legitimately blinded, making them prime targets of the Angels. They stand little chance even with us, let alone without. If we risk ourselves to save them, we may be displaced ourselves, and let me tell you, being displaced in time without the TARDIS is one hell of an ordeal that required quite a bit of maneuvering to get back, and I'd rather not repeat the experience."  
Clara stood fuming at him. "You're going to leave her alone to die here along with the rest of the residents?"  
"That's why their families put them here, isn't it?"  
"I don't believe you," Clara swung open the door and stormed out.  
"Clara!" the Doctor pursued, but Clara had left the room.  
"I would go apologize, dear," Tessie said quietly.  
"It's not my fault she won't listen to reason," the Doctor snarled.  
"It's always good to apologize, even if you didn't do anything wrong. If you can show kindness, then you can prove that even stone can bend. That will win her over."  
"But it isn't *me* who's mistaken!"  
"Love isn't a rational thing," Tessie smiled. "You can't always treat it with reason."  
The Doctor sighed and strode out to look for her.  
Clara found herself in the central garden. She took refuge in the blossoms and sweet scents of the hyacinth. She found a nice park bench to sit on and watched the residents make their way to the cafeteria for lunch.  
After the stragglers left, she heard someone upstairs open the window. She peered up and though she didn't see the face of the speaker, she could hear what they were saying:  
"Guardian Angel," they prayed. "My time is coming. I am old and tired. Please be with me. I'm...scared. I don't want to be alone." Clara looked around but didn't see anything. "Maybe the Doctor needs to use that Screwdriver of his to adjust the screws loose in his head," she giggled to herself. She fiddled with her phone. _Maybe I should call him...no, he doesn't carry a phone. How ridiculous!_  
She looked up again and there before her was a statue. A statue with its hands covering its face. A statue with wings half-folded. Well, one anyway. To one side was a broken stalk, leaving the statue quite pathetic looking, but it was a statue that was not there a moment ago. Of that, Clara was positive.  
Clara shivered as she remembered her one previous experience with Weeping Angels, when she landed in the town called Christmas with The Doctor. She very nearly had her ankle shattered, but that's what HE said would happen. She had a hand closed around her leg and The Doctor managed to get her away in time. She didn't see a face, she didn't see much. _Is this it?_ she thought, perplexed. _Is this really a Weeping Angel? Is THIS what he's so worked up about?_  
The person then DID appear in front of the window in the form of their hand. They sighed with relief. "Angel...please be with me. Just for a little while."  
Clara could hardly believe it. To test her theory, she deliberately blinked her eyes. The Angel was gone! She blinked again to see if it would reappear, but it did not. She blinked rapidly and stopped when she heard the person start speaking again.  
"Angel by my bedside..."  
Clara's heart nearly stopped. If what the person was saying was true, then in a matter of seconds, the angel had traveled out of her sight, across the hall, around the corner, up the stairs, down another hall and into this person's room! A feeling of cold fear started creeping into her spine. Maybe the Doctor was right...  
She could hardly keep her attention on the person's voice, because her thoughts were going so quickly. She looked up for a moment and the angel was standing a mere three meters at maximum in front of her with its one wing extended. Its hands were covering its face. Clara's gasp died inside her and she backed away slowly, making sure not to break eye contact with the creature. Her heart starting beating a mile a minute. She could feel the clammy sweat on her palms as she tried to angle her body around a hedge to put distance between her and it - not that a hedge, she noted, would do much for a monster with such frightening speed.  
Despite herself, she managed to bump into a prickly holly bush, and caught herself from stumbling by tearing her gaze away from the Angel. She was able to catch herself, but her innards plummeted to her knees, which started to buckle with the metaphoric weight as she realized she was no longer looking at the Angel. Her eyes tore back up, but it was gone.  
Something was behind her. Something solid.  
She screamed.  
"Clara?"  
It was the Doctor. "Clara! What's wrong?"  
"I saw it," Clara gasped, shaking with terror.  
The Doctor took her to the bench and sat with her. He waved the Screwdriver around and observed the readings. She could tell from the way he pointed his whole body towards it that they were important, but that he was waiting until later to act upon whatever conclusions he was drawing. "Tell me what happened."  
"I was sitting here," she recanted. "A man opened his window," she pointed to the open sill. The hand was missing. Seeing that made her shiver. "He s-started speaking to the Angel, and then it appeared, then it disappeared, and then it reappeared again and I think the man is gone and-"  
"Clara," The Doctor said with a great deal of forced patience and calm. "I need you to listen to me. We need to go up to the room, do you understand? I just want to take a reading. We won't be there long. After, we'll leave. Understand?"  
She nodded fervently.  
"We need to do this right," the Doctor said. "We'll travel back to back. No blinking. If you must, blink one eye at a time. Now come along."  
Clara reluctantly followed the Doctor along the hallway where the Angel must have traveled. "There's a lot of dirt on the mats," she said nervously.  
"Now there's my Clara," he said warmly. "Weeping Angels are heavy, and though they are incredibly, incredibly fast they often leave trails. It definitely came this way."  
They followed the trail of petals, blades of grass and lightening dirt clumps until they got to the room in question. The door stood ajar. The Doctor put out his Sonic Screwdriver protectively and pushed the door all the way open.  
"What are you doing?"  
They both started, looking at an old woman carrying an IV stand. She was the one who had spoken.  
"That's Arthur's room," she said protectively.  
"It's alright," The Doctor said, thinking quickly. He dug his hand into his breast pocket and pulled out the psychic paper. "I'm a Doctor. I'm here to check on him."  
"You don't work for the home," she narrowed her eyes at him.  
"House call," Clara filled in. "He's out of town. A specialist on stuff. Stuff Arthur had."  
She seemed marginally convinced.  
The Doctor slowly went into the room while Clara stood guard. The women stayed, scrutinizing her.  
"Well we're safe for now. The Angel's gone," he said from inside. "However, I'm getting readings that tell me it was in fact here very recently."  
"Of course the Angel's gone," the woman huffed. "The Guardian Angel stays with you until your time, and then it takes you away."  
"Away where?" Clara's voice caught in her throat, reducing her question to a measly whisper.  
"To Heaven," the woman said half reverently and half condescendingly. "Where else would an Angel take you?"  
"1969?" The Doctor offered as he tucked the Screwdriver away. "No? Just me? Well then," he said, shrugging off the woman's bewilderment. "I say it's time to go."  
"I'm starting to agree," Clara assented as they found their way back to Tessie's room. "I feel bad just leaving her a note."  
"I was called away on urgent business," the Doctor paced, closing the windows and putting up the blinds. "You drove me here, I forced us both to leave, you can hear all about how I incensed her and how I'm not right for you later."  
They left promptly and went back to the parking lot. They stopped dead in their tracks.  
Two Weeping Angels stood on the ledge on either side of the TARDIS. Another stood in front of the door, blocking the way.  
"These are different," Clara noted as she stood frozen.  
"These, Clara, these are Weeping Angels." The Doctor said with eyes unblinking. "As old as Time itself, from the time of the Time Lords, they've stood like this."  
"What do we do?"  
"I have an idea, but you're going to have to trust me."  
"I do trust you."  
"Do you trust me enough to blink when I tell you to?"  
"WHAT?!" Clara glared at him.  
"Clara!" he cried, indicating she look with a sharp, remonstrating glare and a turn of his head.  
They both turned back around and saw that the two Angels were now mere feet in front of them. Their hands were raised with claws extended. Their mouths opened in a horrifying display of stone teeth that looked like they would gnash if given the chance. Their once serene marble-like features were chiseled into ugly grimaces, and their wings were raised in aggression.  
"As long as we look at them, they can't move." The Doctor's voice was shaky. "Just take a few steps away and then around. Then we can get to the-"  
But the third angel hadn't moved. As Clara was keeping her eyes on the two Angels that nearly attacked them, the third remained standing at the TARDIS doors.  
"I hate it when they're clever," the Doctor groaned. "I hate it and love it. It's like 'oh, how wonderful! Something wonderfully clever,' I love cleverness, but damn it all if I don't need something to be stupid, THAT'S when it's most likely to be clever. It's so unfair."  
"I don't understand," Clara said.  
"I'd rather not try to explain that if I were you, it might drive you bonkers to know what's going on in my head even part of the time."  
"No, you idiot," Clara clarified. "I mean what I don't understand is why these Angels attacked us and the other Angel didn't."  
"Let's get back inside. Slowly."  
Clara and the Doctor took turns blinking each eye as they made their way back into the home. They watched the Angels from the windows of the lobby, but even when they accidentally blinked, the Angels didn't get any closer to the building. In fact, they receded into the wood just over the ledge. But they remained visible, and they kept to the TARDIS.  
"What were you saying before?"  
"I said, I saw the Guardian Angel. It was looking at me - well, facing me really, with the hands over the eyes bit," Clara mimicked the Angels' position. "But it knew I was there. I witnessed it...taking that man. It had the opportunity to get me, it had TWO in fact! But it didn't. If you said these things feed on potential energy by sending them back in time, how much time could they really get out of the elderly? Why not go for someone younger, like me?"  
"Yes..." the Doctor mused. "Why indeed?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Garden Angel" is written that way on purpose. By the way. I'm on the third chapter, and I think that'll be the last one. We'll see.
> 
> Keep in mind I haven't watched any Capaldi Who yet, so in my mind this Doctor is probably Matt Smith (11th? 12th?).
> 
> **Update**  
> As of finishing the third chapter, I realized I hadn't addressed a few things, and I hadn't 'fleshed out' my ideas fully. There will be a fourth chapter. I'll try to finish it today.


	2. On the Wings of an Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and the Doctor have gone to visit Clara's aunt in a nursing home but are trapped there by Weeping Angels. Clara and the Doctor go to investigate why it is the Angels are congregating here, and how perhaps to draw them away from the TARDIS so that they can escape. Meanwhile, Clara has another run in with the so-called "Guardian Angel" and learns a good deal more. But what she learns only adds to the mystery! Is there a Weeping Angel CULTURE? If so, what does that mean for her and the Doctor? How will The Doctor react, given his deep-seated fear and hatred for the creatures that stole Amy and Rory from him?

Tessie bought them a late lunch in the cafeteria, so by one o'clock everyone was sated. But the food didn't sit well in The Doctor or Clara, because their minds were totally focused on surviving a siege via Weeping Angels. Too much was at stake to enjoy chicken salad. Though it was a lovely chicken salad, it would have to go unnoticed.  
"So Tessie," Clara asked. "Are there other Angels around the building, or just the one with the broken-off wing?"  
"Just the one so far as I know," Tessie said as she sipped her glass of lemonade. "Not like you'd believe me anyway."  
"We believe you," the two Time Travelers said in unison.  
"Clara met the Guardian Angel," the Doctor said pointedly. "Didn't you?"  
"I did," she nodded.  
"Did she say anything to you, dear?"  
Clara shook her head. "She didn't say anything. She just...stood there."  
"She's very shy," Tessie explained. "She usually just talks to us elderly folk. I bet you scared her as much as she scared you."  
"I doubt it very much" Clara said under her breath.  
"Does this Angel have a resting place?" the Doctor asked. "A place where it usually is before it...moves?"  
"It usually sits in the garden, from what I've seen," Tessie said. "You can't blame her, it's very well tended and it's such a relaxing spot."  
"Maybe she's not like the others then, Doctor," Clara posed.  
"I have never met an Angel that hasn't tried to kill me," the Doctor looked sidelong at Clara.  
"It's never too late to read Scripture," Tessie said. "'Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, my lord keepeth me and leadeth me to safe pastures. Thy rod and thy staff comfort me.'"  
"Yes, well that's all very nice, but tell me that after you're dragged through space time to live in an era completely different from your own and tell me what comfort you have." The Doctor excused himself. Clara stood up to follow.  
"He's been under a lot of stress lately," Clara excused as she rose. "It's a patient...named Angel. Serious, uh, problems." She went after him. "Where are you going?"  
"Where else? The garden."  
"We just ran away from Weeping Angels only to walk into one?"  
"You said this one could be different, so we're testing the theory. It's what Holmes would do."  
"Was Sherlock Holmes real?"  
"No, I like reading and anthropomorphizing fictional characters to the degree of realism. It's a habit."  
"So does this mean we're still together, you listening to my ideas and all?"  
"Don't get your hopes up, baby" the Doctor grinned crookedly as they reached the garden. He ran his Sonic Screwdriver around, listening for the slight tonal changes. They walked deeper into the recesses, since the garden was enclosed only on three sides by the building. They went past gravel pathways, parted a few elderly who looked on in wonder, and came into a completely enclosed enclave surrounded by tall hedges. There were few flowers, but the entire area was radiantly green and pleasant. There was a drooping tree that gave the area a canopy that made it appear more like an outdoor room than an enclosure. In the middle stood a vacant stone platform. "This isn't good." "This is where it normally is, right?" "According to the readings here, it should be right on top of us. Granted the multiple tracks leading to and from, and considering the platform is covered in an array of dirt only on the INSIDE of the platform about the same circumference as one would think of for an Angel, and since the outside is subject to maintenance via sweeping and the like, I would say that this is where our 'Guardian Angel' abides." Clara took a step back to observe the clues and bumped into a solid object. She turned around to see what it was and stared into the face of the Angel. She opened her mouth to scream, but didn't get the chance. "I have to say Clara, risky as this was I appreciate your fervor in wanting to uncover this mystery with me. I was worried you would be traumatized by nearly being killed by an Angel, but what do I know? Ignoring danger is a proclivity I often forget you excel at." Silence. "Clara?" he asked, not looking up at first. "It isn't like you to let a go at you like that pass up. Clara?" Then he looked up. Clara was not there. "Clara?" he said louder, thinking she had wandered off. "Clara!" he called. He stepped around the hedge walls to see her. With an increasing sense of dread, the Doctor sought Clara in the garden and asked several passers-by if they had seen her. They were unhelpful. _They've taken her,_ he thought with unease. _They've taken her like they took Amy. Like they took Rory._ He gripped his Screwdriver with his fist and clenched it until his knuckles were white. _Cross both my hearts, I swear I'll get you back, Clara. I'm not losing another one. Not again!_

"Where...am I?" Clara asked as her vision started to come back into focus. "Though perhaps 'when' am I is a better question." All around her was beach. On one side was the ocean. On another were sheer cliffs expanding great heights above her, towering over the view. "I could be anywhen, I suppose," she thought aloud. "Maybe start with anywhere."  
She looked all around her and there was the Weeping Angel. It was not weeping though. It had both hands in its lap almost expectantly. "Where did you take me?" Clara asked coldly. "WHEN did you take me? WHY did you take me? I'd ask you the 'what', 'who', and 'how' you took me, but I know the answers to those."  
The angel didn't answer. It maintained its position. Its head was inclined downward. Its mouth was closed. Its only wing was fully extended, but rather than making it appear aggressive, it made the living statue look demure. Almost harmless.  
Clara knew better. It was anything but.  
"Take me back!" she said, striding up to the creature. "Hey!" she said. "I'm talking to you!" She blinked back angry tears.  
The angel caught her wrist in its hand. Clara stared up at it in terror. _This is where I die,_ she thought trembling. _This is how I got separated from the Doctor, abducted by a Weeping Angel and was mangled to death! He'll never find me, never even say goodbye!_  
The angel pointed to the sand and remained pointing rather than using its free hand to strangle Clara. Clara counted her blinks, and even between them she noticed the angel wasn't moving. "Well aren't you peculiar? Waiting to play with me before you go back to the nursing home to kill the elderly? The Doctor said you fed on potential energy, but that requires leaving me behind, yeah? Why are you still here?"  
The angel kept pointing, though its grip on her wrist loosened enough for her to pry herself free.  
She looked to where the Angel was pointing. In the damp sand was written very neatly "To communicate properly, I require you to blink often."  
"Are you serious?" Clara put her hands on her hips. "The Doctor has dealt with Angels before, you know. He knows you can only move when you're not being stared at. 'Blink and that's it' he said. Well I'm not falling for it."  
The angel stood passively, since Clara was refusing to blink.  
It took some time before Clara got fed up and sat on the beach, taking only a moment to wipe the hair from her face. In front of her, the Angel stood, pointing straight downward. The movement nearly scared Clara to death, but the Angel still kept some distance and was refusing to kill her as she kept expecting it to, so she was convinced to look down.  
"We are in Dårlig Ulv-Stranden. It is still the year 2014."  
"I'll play along," Clara eyed the Angel warily. She wrote in the sand with her finger, 'where is that?' She made the conscious effort to blink. _And why haven't we time-traveled?_ she wondered.  
The original message was gone, swept away by a hand or foot, leaving tiny waves of layers of sand dug into the larger area. It had been replaced with a new one. "You don't need to write in the sand, I can hear you speak."  
"A snarky Weeping Angel," Clara threw up her hands. "That's it. I've officially seen enough! If I ever get back to the Doctor, will I have a story for him! They'll put me in the looney house for this." She blinked again, ready to retort to what the Angel said next.  
"It is known to The Doctor as 'Bad Wolf Bay' of the country 'Norway'."  
"So you DO know of him, eh?" Clara pointed at the Angel. "Then you know what he'll do, the lengths he'll go to in order to rescue me? You..." Clara trailed off, lacking a name to call the thing, "...Weeping Angel, have a lot to be afraid of." She blinked again, emboldened by her burst of confidence. But she kept it stayed for the most part by how the Angel knew of the place's significance to The Doctor. He hardly ever spoke about his previous companions, even to her! What would this Angel know of them that she, Clara, didn't?  
"The Doctor is known to all Angels. He is the Destroyer of Worlds, The Impending Storm, Conqueror of Galaxies, Ender of the Time War. He is more dangerous than any Angel, nay, any creature alive. It is you who should fear him." "I don't fear him," Clara crossed her arms and blinked indignantly, if one can do that. "You should, human. He has taken many lives, many more than I." This gave Clara pause. "I trust him, that's why. But tell me this, why are we here of all places?" Clara diverted the conversation because a pit of doubt rose in her stomach and she chose not to empower the Angel any more than she had already. SHE was asking the questions. She blinked. "This is where The Doctor left someone dear in somewhere else. I have been feeding on this for a time."  
"What do you mean by 'in somewhere else'?" Blinked. "She was removed from this universe and placed in another, creating a vast store of potential energy that I have fed upon for years far surpassing that of the collective Elderly." "That doesn't make much sense," Clara paced the sand around the message. "Why here? Why would you feed on this? Don't you get plenty of elderly to feed on?" She blinked once more.  
"The Elderly only have minutes to hours to spend once I take them. It is a pittance to this."  
She puzzled over this for a while. "Not exactly a balanced diet, I suppose?" She blinked. "No" was the message waiting for her in clear sand script. She looked at the finger the Angel was using to point out of curiosity, and it was covered in sand. _I'm having a conversation with a Weeping Angel,_ Clara mused. _I'm speaking to an alien being that kills people, that's wronged The Doctor. It's something he fears. It's something he's spent years trying to avoid. What do I do with this information? How do I put this to him in a way he'll understand? Assuming I ever see him again._

"Angel," Clara said, still uncomfortable with the proper address to her interlocutor. "Why have you not, you know, done away with me yet like the other angels?"  
"I am the Guardian Angel" was the reply.  
"Can you be a bit more...specific?" Clara asked. She blinked. There was no reply. "Got cold feet?" she asked with a sneer. "Stone got your tongue? Frozen up? gone 'stone'-cold?" She blinked once more.  
"I can only show you," the Angel replied. Clara looked up and she looked into the eyes of the Angel.  
***  
The Doctor was frantically tracing Clara's energy readings as he desperately tried to explain it all to a frazzled and completely bemused Aunt Tessie. "So you're saying," she relayed back, "that Clara disappeared, but is leaving behind a breadcrumb trail of interference?"  
"Yes..." the Doctor encouraged.  
"...and the energy is from her personal magnetism reacting with the time-stream, creating a residue that shows a basic imprint of where she's been?"  
"Brilliant," the Doctor beamed as they scanned the halls. "I'd say, if it wasn't being guarded by highly intelligent, abnormally fast creatures of deathly intent, I would say you'd make a bang-up companion."  
"Well that's very kind of you, erm, Doctor John-"  
"Just 'The Doctor' please. John is a kind of, er, 'surname' I use."  
"Right," Tessie glanced at him suspiciously. "How is this going to get my Clara back?"  
"The interference that Clara gives off is much stronger than other people's because she's been in the TARDIS - the big blue box in your lovely parking lot which is, I'm not sure if you're aware, now infested with homicidal Weeping Angels - and has been exposed in some small degree to the Heart of the TARDIS. A Weeping Angel feeds off of potential energy created when they send people back in time, because then the interference energy of such a time disruption vastly outweighs the energy that person will have given off in the time it takes for them to live out the rest of their lives from that point until death. However that begs the question - questions plural actually: why is the Angel feeding off the elderly when they give off such an inferior amount, and why has it taken until now for it to have taken a younger person?" The two of them hastily passed an entire family leaving the room of one of the elderly residents. The Doctor peered inquisitively at the youngest, a daughter as she followed her parents. "Is it that the Angel knows me somehow? Does it know Clara? Is this a personal affront? Is this revenge of some kind? Questions! Questions!"  
"Questions are what makes the mind curious, and curiosity-"  
"Killed the cat, I know Miss Tessie," the Doctor growled as he took another reading.  
"I was going to say 'keeps the mind young'," Tessie sniffed indignantly. "You may be a Doctor, but you are no mind reader."  
The Doctor turned to face Tessie. "Geronimo! I like the way you think. Come, I've retraced her steps. They end precisely...here!" The Doctor revealed his hands in a great gesticulation of reveal and mystery, but they were only standing in the hedge garden enclave with an empty pedestal. "Where...she disappeared," The Doctor stuck his fist under his chin. "I wonder..."  
"If she didn't go too far back in time, she might have found her way here again knowing she would find you," Tessie suggested. "True love is powerful stuff, you know."  
"Her name would be in the registry!" The Doctor twirled on his heel. "That is a bang-up job." They came up to the receptionist, who straightened in her seat at the sight of The Doctor.  
"Can I help you, sir?" she asked seductively.  
Tessie rolled her eyes silently while the Doctor pressed on feigning ignorance. "It's 'Doctor' actually, 'THE Doctor', and I was wondering if you could look up a name in your registry, a miss - or possibly Mrs, I have absolutely no idea - Clara Oswald...though, come to think of it, she could have married and become a Clara something else...oh dear."  
"I can tell you right now sir."  
"Doctor," Tessie corrected snidely, though her reasons were different. She believed that The Doctor was still Clara's eccentric boyfriend, but that the receptionist needed to learn her boundaries. The Doctor was likely just skeeved.  
"I can tell you right now, _Doctor_ " the receptionist purred. "That I have at least three in the last year. One passed last week - poor thing - of epilepsy, the other two some time ago before I started. Evidently one had an interest in tossing her chamber pot out the window at passerby."  
"While I'll admit that does sound mischievous, and our Clara is that incarnate," the Doctor twiddled his fingers, "I doubt that it's her with any certainty. Thoughts?"  
Tessie looked at him a little helpless. "Pardon me, but I believe I'm a little out of my element if you don't mind my saying so, Doctor."  
"Right, right," the Doctor rapped his fingers on the counter restlessly. "So how do we find Clara?"  
The receptionist looked up. "Oh, is that her?" She turned the computer screen at her desk to face the Doctor, showing footage of them walking in together.  
"Yes, the very one," the Doctor replied glumly. It was the footage from this morning before they knew what was about to happen.  
"Then why are you checking the registry?" asked the receptionist.  
"Ancestry project," he replied curtly. "Besides this one." He nodded his head to the side to indicate Aunt Tessie.  
The receptionist clacked away on the keyboard and then reclined in her chair. "I have fifteen Claras since we opened."  
"How many are still alive?"  
"Two, but one is under heavy sedation. The other you're welcome to visit. She's a bit of a loner. Stares out the window a lot."  
Tessie and The Doctor exchanged glances. "Tell us the room numbers please."  



	3. Why the Angels Weep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that The Doctor and Clara have been separated, some very different investigations are going on. Clara is with the Garden Angel trying to get to the bottom of why this Angel has separated from the pack, while the Doctor has teamed up with her Aunt Tessie to see how to get Clara back and how, if they even can, get to the TARDIS and past the Weeping Angels actively seeking their destruction. But how is it all related?

The Angel had taken Clara back to the garden, but by now it was dark.  
"Are we back to the right time? Is this the same nursing home?" Clara drilled as she looked about. Everything indeed looked the same, though washed in the darkened colors of night. The hedges were still in the same configuration. The flowers were closing up, no longer able to find sun, but they were still the same colors as she remembered from the morning. The three-sided building in front of her looked the same. She could at least take comfort in being returned to the correct place.  
Not that Bad Wolf Bay in Norway wasn't lovely, but it was rather far from The Doctor and the TARDIS, which had put her on edge nearly as much as conversing with a Weeping Angel only feet away from her with the instructions to "keep blinking often".  
 _It should be noted that so far I'm not dead,_ Clara thought, _considering this runs counter to everything The Doctor has ever told me about them._  
She turned to the angel, who showed no sign of acknowledging her question.  
"Oh, I suppose without the sand, you're as quiet as before, aren't you?" she said to the living statue.  
Predictably it said nothing. She blinked and it turned to her. Only the head. _No matter how many times I see it, that never ceases to unnerve me,_ Clara gulped. _I suppose I should keep that in mind._  
She blinked again out of instinct, now that the adrenaline from her previous panic was beginning to ebb. The angel now stood some distance away at the base of another window around the side of the building, removed from the garden view. This one had a light on. Clara walked quickly to catch up, keeping both her eyes open to make sure the Angel didn't get any more of a head start on her. "Not everyone moves as fast as an Angel you know!" she panted as she gently slapped the back of the Guardian Angel's elbow. "Sorry," she said, rubbing the elbow down apologetically. "Please don't teleport me to 1969. Or anywhere else."  
Rather than blinking and giving the Angel a moment to reconsider, she listened. The window to which the Angel was pointing was open, and a bedside light had been left on. "Angel," came a feeble voice from within. "Oh!" Clara exclaimed as suddenly she was enfolded within the Angel's arms, not forcefully, but without gentleness as the Weeping Angel was made of stone. She blinked out of astonishment and in the next instant a stony hand was cupped over her mouth and she was forcefully whirled one hundred eighty degrees. They faced about now into the woods away from the building and Clara spied the two Weeping Angels that nearly did her in. They were advancing from the forest with wings extended and claws splayed out. Their mouths bore vicious gray teeth and eyes expressed the cold fury that shook Clara full of dread down to the bones. She tried to mouth the words _Why are you letting me see them? Help! I don't want to look at them!_ But she could not. The Guardian Angel's hand was clasped too tightly over her mouth.  
"Angel..." the voice continued, "My time is nearing. I have lived the life I have wished. I have done all I can do. I have raised my family and seen my share." It was an old woman in her last moments.  
"Clara!" came a familiar shout. She tried to turn her head, but could not. She was surrounded on either side by the gaunt shoulders of her captor Angel. She turned about and saw the other two Angels were very, very close. Dangerously close. One was almost close enough to strike her if it could move but two feet more. Its claws reached towards her and its stone face was frozen in a wretched, hateful grimace. The other was beside it, also reading to attack. Her eyes snapped to their widest and her heart starting beating rapidly. She tried to not pay attention the fingers ready to enclose around her skull or break her neck. She tried to ignore the proximity of those fingers, less than a few hand's breaths away. She tried to ignore the icy cold fingers **already** upon her.  
 _If I blink..._ she thought wildly, _so much as once, so much as for a second, I die._  
***  
"Clara..." The Doctor said kindly into the ear of the woman they found in the room registered under the name 'Clara Jacobson'. "A long time ago, you met this crazy man who called himself The Doctor. You saw things you would never in your life believe that you did...but those things were real. You did see them."  
The woman turned her head in his direction as if she had heard something, paused, but then turned away with a confused expression.  
"So Doctor," Tessie whispered as The Doctor knelt over Clara Jacobson's bed, scanning it with his Sonic Screwdriver. "You're sure this is Clara?"  
"I can't be sure, but this is our last chance if it is her," he replied. "There are only two Clara's left in this whole place, and the other is completely unresponsive. If Clara isn't dead and if she did make it back here to try to find us, this woman may be our only chance."  
"Clara Jacobson is blind, Doctor," Tessie said, picking up prescription bottles. "And going deaf, I might add. If Clara is trapped in there, we may not find her after all."  
"I'm not convinced!" The Doctor turned to her vindictively. "Nor shall I be until all the paths have been taken, every possibility considered."  
"Clara," he turned to her, "Do you remember the Daleks? The single greatest threat to humanity and Time Lord alike? Perhaps the killer snow men that arose from a child's dream turned nightmare in reality? Do you remember baking souffles?"  
"What were your dreams as a child?" Tessie said very loudly in Clara Jacobson's ear.  
"Who is it?" Clara Jacobson replied shrewdly. "And don't people care to knock nowadays?"  
"It's Tess, from downstairs!" said Aunt Tessie. "I came to check on you. I brought a Doctor with me!"  
"A Doctor?"   
"Yes!"  
"Doctor Who?" demanded Clara Jacobson. She showed no recollection of any significance belonging to that name, or any sign of irony in asking who it was. The Doctor's hopes were fading.  
"I'm *THE* Doctor!" he said into her ear, articulating the hard consonants. "We've met before I believe."  
"I don't believe we have, you impertinent old scoundrel!" Clara Jacobson swatted him away. "Now Tess, I don't appreciate strangers in my home, now leave me to die in peace! I have a date with an Angel and I am not going to miss it for the world. Not because of this 'Doctor' character!"  
"So Doctor," Tess asked with a sigh of defeat. "Is there any chance this could be our Clara? I don't recognize her at all."  
"Not in the slightest," The Doctor replied cheerfully. "Besides being less of an old windbag full of bitterer stuff than Slitheen deodorant, Clara's nose is much more...I'm not sure what the word is, so I'll use the word 'nosey'? It's more like a nose than this - not that a nose could be 'nosy', because that would be ridiculous. However, this woman wants the attention of the resident Angel here, so I think that the Angel won't be able to resist coming here where we can see her. As you can imagine, an elderly home is not the choice establishment for a Weeping Angel, considering these people have comparably less time to feed from when they're turned back and while that explains why every single catalogued "Death" in the registry is marked as "ran away" or "went missing", that does raise several more questions."  
"And Clara might be with her?" Tessie asked in a mousy tone.  
"I can't really say that for sure, that's not how Angels usually operate," the Doctor flicked the Screwdriver up and noted his findings. They were conclusive. This woman had very little time left, and absolutely no trace of TARDIS energy - which he had at first ignored, attributing it to dilution over time spent away from the TARDIS, but slowly come to accept. The pictures of Jesus on her bedside indicated a positive trend in superstition. This woman was the most likely of the two candidates of Clara they had seen to call out to the Angel in question. This was their best chance of finding Clara, even if she wasn't a time-traveling elder person who had returned to the scene of her kidnapping. "So here is the plan. We see the Angel and entrap it in a stare - Angels can't move when you stare at them - and we demand that she return Clara to us, or in the very least tell us where she was taken - then we make for the TARDIS before the other Angels come."  
"Other...Angels?" Tessie gasped. "You're telling me there are...more?"  
"Yes, and they aren't the most friendly creatures either," the Doctor replied solemnly. "It's why we must be quick, and I must ask that you do not blink. It is of the utmost importance. Stay close-"  
"Angel..." Mrs. Jacobson moaned. "Angel please...are you there? Angel..."  
"Let's move her to the window, shall we?" The Doctor heaved the bed closer to the window and threw the sill open.  
"What now?" Tessie asked timidly, rubbing her arthritic knuckles.  
"We wait, and I imagine it won't take long. If there's any creature in this universe that you can assure will be punctual, it's a Weeping Angel," the Doctor reassured. "Though at this point we might want to look away until we are sure it's here, otherwise it won't move, and what a delightful puzzle that is; to not look at an Angel in order to bring it into a trap with which we devised using nothing but our bare eyeballs." To emphasize his point he pulled his lids open like a child would to scare their younger sibling.  
"Doctor, this is serious" Tessie drew herself up. "Whether or not your plan works, this woman dies in the process. You must not forget that real lives pass here, at the hands of this Angel."  
"If this makes you uncomfortable, why are you helping me?"  
"I want my Clara back."  
"Why else? What's in it for you? I mean you specifically?"  
Clara's Aunt Tessie only took a moment to consider. "I want to see if this Angel is as benevolent as I hope her to be, because when my time comes I do not want to wait in fear. I want to go peacefully. I want to accept my death with dignity."  
"Noble, noble Tessie," the Doctor patted her on the shoulder.  
"Angel..." the woman moaned again. "...My time is nearing. I have lived the life I have wished. I have done all I can do. I have raised my family and seen my share." Tessie sought the Doctor's hand, and he let her take it and squeeze it. They were very harshly reminded that this woman's final moments would be shared by them, and without her knowing. She was blind and very, very hard of hearing. A pathetic sight to see.  
There was a muffled cry. The Doctor and Tessie rushed to the other window and saw the Guardian Angel with its back to them, with its only remaining wing fully extended defensively. Deep, running gouges in its body ran completely up to its head and down the robes, which, were they in flesh, would have been very serious wounds indeed. A broken stump was all that remained of its other wing. It was ragged and not smooth, so whatever had broken it had torn it off, rather than sheered it with some blade.  
The Doctor's mind was running a million miles an hour, which is considerable considering his brain usually worked at approximately nine hundred thousand, eight hundred and fifty six miles an hour at normal. Slightly more with coffee, negligibly more than normal with tea. However, this extra boost allowed him to consider the following:  
There was definitely a muffled scream that he heard, and it was most certainly not made by the Angel, as Angels are incapable of speech.  
There were three angels in the yard, and they appeared to be facing each other... _Most unusual!_ he noted. _Why are they doing that?_  
None of the angels were moving or showing any signs of battle. They showed no sign of acknowledging him, and that both troubled and annoyed him.  
Nothing known has ever successfully harmed an Angel to the point of dismembering it. Angels were near indestructable. The only thing that could possibly harm an angel... _So is it possible...?_  
Another thought broke in. _If Clara is among the Angels, she is likely hidden in the arms of the Guardian Angel, as she is not visible at the moment but still remarkably alive! Clara is alive!_  
His train of thought was broken by Tessie trembling. "Why aren't the Angels moving? Is it because we're staring at them?"  
"No..." The Doctor said, leaning out the window. "Clara!" he cried.  
"Angel," continued the woman, "Take me to Heaven."  
"No," The Doctor continued.  
"Take me to my Reginald. I wish to see him again..."  
"I think it's because Clara is down there. Clara is keeping the Weeping Angels at bay!"  
"Then why is she in the arms of the Guardian Angel? Why has she not been taken?"  
"They're likely fighting over the food source," the Doctor tightened his grip on the sill.  
"I wish to see my daughter -she died of cancer, poor dear..."  
"Like I said before, elderly are little to them for a food source, they're turning to younger people now. They're fighting over who gets to feed off Clara's energy. If we don't hurry, we'll lose her!"  
"...I wish to see my parents once more. That's all I ask."  
"If we leave, then Clara will have to face those Angels alone!" Tessie cried. "We can't leave now."  
"You stay here and don't take your eyes off those Angels, not for one second!" The Doctor said as he tore out of the room. "Clara!" he cried. "Clara, I'm coming!"  
***  
 _It's the Doctor!_ Clara thought elatedly, clinging to any thought that wouldn't remind her of just how close to death she was.  
"...I wish to see my parents once more..." said the woman upstairs. Clara tried to keep HER thoughts out of her head. _I mustn't think about dying! I mustn't! What would the Doctor say if I went and died on him again, eh? I'm not going like those other two, no sir! I just have to stay focused until The Doctor comes for me._  
The Guardian Angel still held her protectively against the Angels, but as far as normal battles was concerned, this was a literal standstill. It was a deadly stale mate that, under no circumstances, must be attempted to sway in any direction or Clara's proverbial jig was 'up'.  
Clara's arms were free, but her mouth was firmly clamped shut and she was in the tight embrace of the Garden Angel at the mouth. She ran her hands along the wrists to try to loosen herself. They were heavily scarred, and some of the scars were very deep. She ran her hands up the arms and pulled away little bits of moss stuck in the crevices. _I hadn't imagined a Weeping Angel to be so...broken,_ she thought. _According to the Doctor, nothing can stop a Weeping Angel. They're invincible and immortal...so what did this to you?_ Since her eyes were fixed upon her would-be killers she had no trouble observing the cracks in their fingers - one of the fingers on the hands on the most prominent Angel was missing entirely, which Clara thought odd. Still, they were more pristine. Their wings were still in pairs. Their arms were not heavily scarred, though one had gouges in its eyes, making it all the more horrific.  
At that moment, she understood. _Oh Angel..._ Clara patted the arm of her captor. _I understand. You truly are the Guardian Angel._  
"Clara!" came the heaving, tired voice of The Doctor.  
'MMM!!' Clara threw out a hand to him, warning him not to come closer. She intimated to him through wild hand gestures that if he were to come closer, he'd break her eye contact with the Angels. The Doctor saw then the extent of her peril.  
"Clara," he said, forcing himself to be calm. "You need to break free from this Angel, or they will take you."  
Clara shook her head resolutely, forcing herself to stare at the Angels intent upon her destruction.  
Tessie was behind the Doctor. "Clara!" she exclaimed in relief. The Doctor had to hold her back with both hands.  
"You can't go near her, if she breaks eye contact with the Angels, it's all over! She needs to stay there, just for now. But she's stuck to the Angel, it's holding her mouth closed and against its body. We need...uh... um..." The Doctor racked his brilliant mind for a solution. "Butter! Find some butter! We need to grease her mouth so she can slip out! Quickly!"  
Tessie shuffled away with purpose.  
"Clara, brave, clever Clara," the Doctor put a hand on her shoulder. "Just wait a little while longer. When I get you out, we're going to the TARDIS, we're leaving, and we're taking Tessie with us. We'll try to take everyone if we can. It's not safe here, we have to leave!"  
"Mrrr!" Clara muffled in protest. She held her hands out defensively, gripping the Angel protectively. _You don't understand, Doctor!_ she tried to tell him. _This Angel's not one of them! It's not fighting over me for food, it's fighting to keep me safe! It's keeping everyone safe! This is truly their Guardian Angel! I'm not leaving her to the hands of these monsters!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have gotten much more tense at the nursing home where Clara's Aunt Tessie resided. After the discovery of a Weeping Angel, Clara and the Doctor diverted paths...albeit unintentionally. Clara was abducted by the Angel, while the Doctor tries desperately to plan how to get her back and how to escape now that a cluster of Angels is guarding the TARDIS! While Clara is away, she learned that this particular Angel is not like the rest and when the Angel returns her to her own time she enters a showdown with the other, malevolent Angels. Clara resolves to protect the Angel and what it stands for, but how can she? How can the Doctor save someone who does not want to be saved? How can the Doctor regain the TARDIS? What is to become of the Guardian Angel?

"Clara, be reasonable!" The Doctor argued. "You don't know them like I do. You're getting a particularly marred first impression!" Clara had intimated a little of her theory with hand gestures. Mostly pointing.  
Aunt Tessie returned with a covered butter dish and lifted the lid.  
"Where did you find the time, at a time like this, to place the butter in a decorative dish?"  
"It's a warm, damp night and the butter might spoil!" Tessie grumbled. "Clara's alright and not about to move anywhere anytime soon."  
"Have you lost your marbles?" The Doctor tore at his hair. "Clara is in the arms of an inter-dimensional...UGH" he started pacing in a circle.  
"MMr-MMr" Clara furrowed her brows without taking her eyes off the Angels that stood within feet of her, ready to crush her fragile little body. She held out her hand expectantly.  
The Doctor put the whole stick of butter in it, and she carefully applied it around her mouth. She started moving her head from side to side so as not to break eye contact. That was essential. "Doctor," she said through pinched lips once she managed to maneuver away from the hand. "This angel is protecting these people from THESE Angels! She's good!"  
"Weeping Angels aren't capable of 'good'," the Doctor said coldly. He was losing patience. "They are the universe's greatest and most patient predators. They are the scourge of the Time Lords. They are selfish beings that exist only to feed, and you know how they do that."  
"I've been to Bad Wolf Bay!" Clara snarled as she struggled.  
The Doctor hushed. He took over the staring, so Clara could adequately twist about, and so that he could attempt to process what she said. "I don't know where you heard of that place, but that's not possible."  
"She took me," Clara patted her captor's arm as she slowly freed herself. "It's how she 'eats'. You left someone there, and now it's making loads of potential energy. It's why she's feeding on elderly despite getting so little. She's going there for her meals, and returning so she can continue fighting to keep the elderly safe from **them!** "  
The Doctor took a look at the other Angels from as close as he dared. Then he wandered around the Angel holding Clara. He ran his fingers along the broken stalk of a wing and along the deep scratches all over the robe and the hair. "I can't say I know of anything that could make these other than...another Angel..." But the more the Doctor investigated, the less he liked it. The scratches along the stalk were from fingernails. Weeping Angel fingernails. The force it would have taken to forcibly tear off a wing was...unthinkable, and unimaginably savage. He observed the same gruesome details on the other Angels as Clara had, and started putting two and two together. "There is still one enormous problem, Clara." _I am **not** trusting an Angel,_ the Doctor's inner voice rang with disdain and contempt. _I am not trusting a creature that killed Amy. That killed Rory. That nearly killed me and Martha. The Angel is using Clara to keep up its cozy little lifestyle, and I'm not going to let it do that either! These people deserve to die in peace in their own time._  
"Other than the fact that if I so much as blink - which, let me tell you, I would REALLY like to do right now - that I'd be killed, and that I'm pinned in place because the Guardian Angel knows that neither of us can be attacked by the bad Angels so long as we're staring at them? Please Doctor, do tell!" Clara yelled, irate.  
"We still can't get to the TARDIS. There are two Weeping Angels here, and I bet the third is still guarding it!"  
"I hope you have a plan!" Tessie's voice warbled with worry. Her eyesight wasn't what it used to be, but the sight of those statues she knew weren't there before gave her quite the fright. And the gooseflesh on top of that.  
"In progress!" The Doctor grimaced as he racked his brain.  
"I'm going to help her," Clara said with more freedom as she smeared the butter all across the lower half of her face. "She's fought them off for so long. She needs our help - these people need our help! If the Angel can't keep the others at bay, they'll turn this entire building into a ghost town!"  
"It's worse than that," the Doctor added gravely. "It'll be the whole town, next. Weeping Angels never rest. They never stop. They feed until they have nothing left."  
Clara's Aunt Tessie tapped on The Doctor's shoulder.  
"What is it?" he asked annoyed.  
"We have onlookers, Doctor."  
"That's all well and good, but-"  
"They're staring," Tessie pressed.  
The Doctor paused, fuming.  
"At the Angels?"  
It started to dawn on him. "Clara!" he said. "We have observers keeping an eye - both eyes - all their eyes on the angels! You are free to move about!"  
Clara freed herself and stepped to the side of the Guardian Angel, keeping her hand clasped around its arm. She made a new observation. The Angel had held her not to pin her to it, but to keep her gaze fixed to the enemy. She knew damn well the unfathomable strength the Angels possessed. If it had wanted to crush her to it to prevent escape, it would have. Her heart cracked. "How do we help her, Doctor?"  
"Working on it," he said raspily as he continued investigating the Guardian Angel. It was snarling with that same ferocious, stony glare with emotionless eyes, but it was glaring not at Clara as The Doctor would have thought, but at the other Angels. _If Clara was its shield,_ he thought, then the Angel should have grasped her with both hands. She could never have escaped. He ran his finger along the Angel's other arm, extended in defense with its remaining fingers splayed out in warning, as if to hold them back. The Doctor was reluctant to accept Clara's theory.  
"How did you defeat them last time, Doctor?" Clara asked, waving her hands in front of the other Weeping Angels cautiously.  
"I didn't, we escaped them," The Doctor said, running his Sonic Screwdriver over the Guardian Angel. "Both times." The readings were unambiguous. Undeniable. They radiated with residual TARDIS energy, and _recent_ TARDIS energy at that. He knew exactly where that came from, which only made him more dubious.  
"How did you escape them, then?"  
"Narrowly," came his curt reply.  
"She's staring at them, is that enough?" Clara asked nervously.  
"She's looking at one of them," Tessie pointed. "The one closest. Her hand points to the other, but that won't be enough."  
"So once the on-lookers disperse..." Clara's heart skipped.  
"We'll have to be very, very careful," the Doctor announced. "Because one blink and it will be over."  
"It's nearly ten o'clock, Doctor," Tessie said. "Most of the residents will be going to bed."  
"Weeping Angels can't move if they're being stared at, yeah?" Clara asked, tilting her head to the side. The wheels in her head were turning, and burning rubber.  
"Yes, but we can't stare at them the whole time AND get to the TARDIS, and therein lies the problem," The Doctor said, closing up the Screwdriver.  
"I wasn't proposing that WE stare at them" she replied cunningly. Clara and The Doctor exchanged a look, and as if by telepathy, he picked up on her train of thought, now chugging full steam ahead.  
"That's my Clara!" the Doctor exclaimed. "To the lavatory!"  
"Finally," Aunt Tessie said, tottering away.  
Clara was hot on the Doctor's heels as he burst into the lavatory, scaring a man at the urinal. "No ladies allowed!" he shook his jowls. "This is the men's room!"  
"It's an emergency!" Clara said, embarrassed. "Funny how in a building full of people losing their sight, smell, sound and what not I come upon the one old soul who's got 20-20 at a critically embarrassing moment."  
"We need to commandeer these mirrors," the Doctor said suavely, ignoring the fact the man's fly was still open and he was still standing speechless. "I'm the janitor," he whipped out the psychic paper and flipped open the flap with a finger, "and we need to divert their, er, reflective properties to a new area for the time being. You will get them back when we finish." Without waiting for a reply - though he would receive none since the poor man was left utterly dumbstruck - The Doctor started tinkering with the fastenings securing one of the mirrors with his sonic screwdriver.  
"I'll find a supply closet," said Clara, who scampered down the hall. The supply closet door, however, was locked. _I'll go to the receptionist, she'll find the groundskeeper,_ she thought quickly, still running from the adrenaline coursing through her body at nearly being torn to pieces by two Angels. The dry eyes that resulted were certainly not helping. "Excuse me," Clara said, slightly out of breath to the receptionist, who looked up expectantly, gazed passed her longingly, then wilted slightly out of disappointment. "I need your help."  
"With?" the girl asked unenthused.  
"I need the keys to the supply closet so I can detach the mirrors from the bathroom in order to distract monsters that only move when you aren't looking."  
The receptionist raised her eyebrows.  
"It's to help the Doctor," Clara specified.  
No reaction.  
"That handsome bloke I came in with needs them."  
The receptionist cracked a grin and shook a key ring already dangling on her finger.  
Clara passed by The Doctor in the hall, who was very carefully hauling each mirror to the outside, where a small group of curious elders had gathered. The Angels, it seemed, had not moved. That was only going to be temporary, The Doctor and Clara knew, so they had to walk quickly. "Get away from them!" The Doctor exclaimed as he maneuvered one of the mirrors to balance on one of the malevolent Weeping Angels' outstretched arms so that it leaned on them. The Weeping Angel would be looking at its own reflection. _Hopefully,_ thought The Doctor, _that will be enough._  
"Here," Clara offered as she duct taped the mirror to the Weeping Angels arms, being very careful not to touch it. She stared at it instinctively, hoping that it would not move and reach for her. She was not only close enough to be touched, but close enough to strangled, maimed, swatted, or any number of horrible, unspeakable things to which the Doctor had kindly kept her in ignorance. She tilted the mirror to make sure that each Angel was staring directly at itself, and stepped away. By now the onlookers were as curious about them as they were about the statues, but their numbers were thinning.  
They turned about and the Guardian Angel was a step away from where she was before. The Doctor confirmed this when he saw the flattened grass from where she had been standing. "Clara, you missed this one," he said, annoyed, attaching one of the mirrors to its face. "We have to get all of them, that's the whole point of it."  
"If anything, she needs one on her back to keep the others away," Clara said snobbishly as she ripped off the duct tape and reapplied it to the Guardian Angel's back. It rested between the wings rather snugly. "Someone has to watch her back."  
The Doctor narrowed his eyes and wagged a finger at her. "She's still taking people. She's still feeding on them. You don't find that inherently wrong?"  
"What I find inherently wrong is being attacked by **those things!** "  
"So you're making an exception to a creature that is only different in its process of selecting its victims."  
"This Angel is different, Doctor" Clara stood her ground. "She didn't prey on me when she had the chance, and that precedes 'victim selection', and for your information she has let herself be nearly torn apart by her own kind. I'm surprised that's so easily escaped your notice."  
"What's going on here?" grumbled a man in middle age, dressed in a jumpsuit and a baseball cap. He had a scruffy-looking mustache and carried a tool belt. He was clearly the groundskeeper.  
Aunt Tessie returned from the bathroom to see him starting to shift the mirrors. "No! Groundskeeper Manny, don't!"  
"Go on ye bloody old folks," he barked. "There ain't nuttin' tah see here." As he turned away the people, fewer and fewer eyes remained on the Angels. "So THIS is where them mirrors went off to!" he grumbled as he removed the duct tape. "Bloody hooligans."  
The second he removed the mirror, he stared into the face of an enraged Weeping Angel, and was instantaneously removed from the current time period. Anyone's best guess was somewhere between 1930 and 1965, but it could have been practically anywhere and anywhen else. There was the shattering of glass as well.  
The Doctor and Clara whipped their heads about to see a vengeful Weeping Angel glaring at them with a short, Athenian smile gripping a hat in its stony hand. A broken, splintered mirror was splayed all over the grass.  
"So much for that!" Clara gasped. "More bad luck, as if we needed it!"  
"Don't worry Doctor, I've got them!" Tessie cried triumphantly, scrunching her face up to glare at the Weeping Angel.  
"You see what I mean, Clara? That groundskeeper is but one, a sampling size of one in a feeding pool of millions that have fallen to these creatures."  
"My Angel is nothing like that, and you know it," Clara's heart faltered. The malice on this Angel's face was palpable; its hard, cold eyes set on her death.  
"'My Angel', listen to yourself! Speaking of whom, where is your precious Angel, eh?" The Doctor cooed challengingly. Clara turned around. Since the onlookers dispersed, and since her Angel had only a mirror on its back, it had wandered free. The second Malevolent Angel was entrapped where it was, but there was only Tessie keeping this Angel from advancing upon all three of them. That is, unless they took turns staring while they scoured the building for this other Angel that could travel faster than sound. The Doctor was deeply unsettled.  
"I know where she is," Clara said. The light in the room of Clara Jacobson was still on, but there was a long, irregular shadow cast about the room.  
"Any chance of putting a mirror on this one again, Doctor?" Tessie asked nervously.  
"Unfortunately I think not," the Doctor said in a clenched voice. "Even if I was to secure it, I couldn't guarantee the correct angle. It's too much of a risk. I say we try for the TARDIS, take turns staring as we go, keep someone to hold up the rear, We can still get this mirror on the one in front of the TARDIS, I think."  
Clara took Tessie's hand as they slowly walked backwards, following the Doctor around the back of the building. They were both scared, because there was a great deal of shrubbery to get past, and whenever they had to walk behind it, their view was momentarily obscured. Every time they passed it, the Weeping Angel with the marred face pursued them, stuck in a different state of rage as they went. "Doctor," Tessie whimpered. "It's following us!"  
"I know it is, keep lively!" The Doctor replied in a desperate attempt to keep up morale. They rounded the corner and saw the parking lot. The Weeping Angel was not there. "Now there's a bother," the Doctor stopped dead, Clara and Tessie bumping into him and glancing once at him in acknowledgment of the source of their collision before turning quickly back to the first Weeping Angel. It stood six feet away from them with that same hateful smirk. If it had pupils, they would be burning with revenge.  
"Doctor!" Tessie and Clara cried. The Doctor spun around on his heel, started, stumbled backwards and hit something hard. Thinking it was the end, that he was finally caught by an Angel for the last time, he gave a shout.  
"What is it?" Clara said, terrified.  
"An Angel, what else!" The Doctor's voice shook. But he looked up at the thing he had bumped into, he felt his panic turn into relief. At least a portion of it. Not all of it, because he was surrounded on two sides by one of the creatures he detested most. Weeping Angels sat right up there with Daleks and Cybermen so far as he was concerned.  
He stared into his own reflection, which for a minute baffled him. He swept a hand over his hair, then analyzed the situation. It was a mirror. It was balanced between a fully extended wing, and a broken stalk. "Well I'll be a monkey's uncle," he said quietly. "Clara, I think I found your Angel."  
"Is she alright?"  
"She's keeping us from certain death at the expense of her freedom, so the most appropriate answer I can think of for the time being is 'sort of'."  
"What do you mean?" asked Tessie.  
The Doctor peeked around the Angel's shoulder and saw the other malevolent Angel - the one that had guarded the TARDIS - locking arms with her. They were staring at each other, rending each other incapable of moving. That only left the one at their backs trying to actively kill them, and the other Angel left on the other side of the building observing its own reflection.  
"To the TARDIS!" The Doctor cried. "Geronimo!" He grabbed Clara's hand and they took off with Tessie in tow, but someone turned away. Only for a second.  
They neared the TARDIS doors. They got ever so close. But it was enough time unobserved for the Weeping Angel to bar their access, leaping in front of the doors at sickeningly fast speed. It held its arms out to them as if to catch them in their desperate sprint. The Doctor put up his hands in time for them to stop in front of the Angel.  
"Doctor," Clara panted. "What do we do now?"  
"I don't know," the Doctor gulped. "That was the plan."  
"We must do something!" Tessie said.  
"We can't," Clara said finally. "The one person helping us is stuck watching the other Angel. We're done for."  
Suddenly the head of the marred Weeping Angel exploded, sending hundreds of tiny shards scattering everywhere onto the asphalt. What was left was the neck stalk and a giant black hammer head. The head retreated and they saw that it belonged to an enormous sledge hammer. The bearer was none other than the receptionist. "The name's Ashley," she smirked. "In case you were wonderin'."  
"Thank you very much," the Doctor said robotically.  
"We weren't, but thanks all the same!" Clara said with a hint of jealousy.  
"Oh," Tessie moaned, and then collapsed.  
"Aunt Tessie!" Clara exclaimed rushing to her side. "Are you alright?"  
"This body is too old for such adventures," Tessie groaned. "I'm glad I got one more in, though. I can die without regret."  
"But-" Clara started, before Tessie cut her off.  
"Dear," she said to her niece, "I wanted to see you at least once before I went. Never in all my years did I expect anything like this!"  
"I shouldn't have brought you into this mess," the Doctor rubbed his temples. "For that I am sorry. I make a terrible boyfriend." He had meant this for Clara, but he pointedly looked at Ashley, who didn't take the hint.  
"I wouldn't trade it for anything, dear," Tessie shook her head. "Meeting you, Doctor, seeing the Angels, having quite a fright at that! I thought I was past excitement years ago, but you've proven me wrong in the best way possible."  
"Is there anything I can do?" Clara asked.  
"I wish to speak to the Angel."  
The Doctor's face became stern, but he said nothing.  
"Excuse me," Clara said to Ashley, holding out a hand. "May I borrow this?"  
"The Groundskeeper won't need it for the time being, I don't see why not," Ashley replied.  
"You have no idea how poignant that sentence really was," the Doctor mused aloud.  
Clara walked up to the Angel embracing her Angel in its fearsome gaze and pulled her arms all the way back before arcing the sledge head high to come crashing down upon the Weeping Angel's head, making an enormous crater in the side of its skull. She blinked to get rid of some of the dust that scattered. But it was held in place by The Guardian Angel, who was now grappling it by both shoulders.  
"Let her go, you sot!" Clara said as she swung again, this time colliding the sledgehammer directly into side of the Weeping Angel's face.  
"Allow me," the Doctor said, taking the handle gingerly. He swung so hard that the Angel's entire head fractured, breaking off a huge chunk while it still stood helpless in the Guardian Angel's arms. He waved his hands in front of his face to dispel the dust that went everywhere. In the moment he used to do so, it obscured his vision, and in that tiny fracture of time there resounded an enormous cracking sound. When they looked again, the Guardian Angel was holding what was left of the other Weeping Angels' head in her hand, dangling by the clump of chiseled hair that remained. The dust must have momentarily obscured her vision as well.  
The last Angel was dispatched in much the same way. The Doctor gave it a swift kick in the chest, and it broke apart like a clay vase as it collided with the pavement. The TARDIS was free. He turned about and locked in a staring contest with the Guardian Angel. The Doctor reluctantly acknowledging the Angel, and the Angel was literally paralyzed by it.  
"Now you two get along," Clara scolded, standing between them - though this made no difference being shorter than either one. "You've both done a good deal of work tonight to save us. Right now my aunt is dying and she needs to be comforted. So if you don't mind, can we reschedule the resentment? Thank you!"  
"I've seen enough," Ashley put her hands up. "I don't care what my supervisor says, my shift is officially over." She took the sledgehammer and headed back inside.  
Clara went back to her aunt, who's breathing came in labored gasps and coughs in part from the dust, and in part from her organs decidedly rebelling. The Doctor and Clara stood beside Tessie. The Guardian Angel knelt at her side, listening intently and holding out a hand. Clara squeezed the Doctor's as they looked on.  
"Angel," Tessie said quietly. "You have done so much for me already. Let my last wish be to see my family; my complete family."  
The Angel looked like she was smiling. Tessie reached for her hand, and everything was blurry.  
All four of them stood in a suburban neighborhood. It was dark, and they were obscured by a tree. "I know this tree," Clara said, running her hand up the bark.  
"Of course you know it, dear" Tessie replied warmly. "This is your parents' house."  
Clara's mouth dropped. There were her mom and dad sitting on the porch. Just talking. "I would go here often to babysit."  
"But...why?" Clara's lip trembled.  
"I thought it unfair that I got to spend so much time with them, and you so little" Tessie explained. "But now, even with a few small differences, we are a family again."  
"Oh Tessie..." Clara put her hands to her face. When she turned around to look at her Aunt, she was very still in the arms of the Weeping Angel.  
The Doctor put his arms around Clara to keep her still. "This does seem to be what she wanted," he reassured her. "And even I admit, she could have done far worse."  
They both blinked, and the Angel held her hand to them. Clara took it for them, and after their vision cleared, they were back at the TARDIS.  
"What year is it?" The Doctor demanded. "Clara, keep an eye on her, I'll check the time." He popped into the blue box and then back out. "It's only a minute past one, which is approximately one minute since we were taken. What are you playing at, Angel?"  
"She can't speak here, Doctor" Clara said. "She can only communicate through writing."  
"That's not true," the Doctor whispered gravely. "I've seen Weeping Angels take control of the vocal cords of the people they kill. It is not pretty."  
"Take us somewhere, Doctor! Take us somewhere sandy, take us to a beach!"  
"I am NOT," the Doctor swept his finger aggressively, "letting a WEEPING ANGEL in my TARDIS."  
"I don't think she's strong enough to time travel that far," Clara said. "She's too weak. She only has the one wing, and she's badly beaten up. She doesn't get a lot of potential energy. It will only be for a while."  
The Doctor shot her a look. When he looked back at the Angel, it held its hands together like it was praying. Or pleading.  
"The kind of power inside the TARDIS is something Weeping Angels have been having a go at for centuries," he explained coolly. "You honestly expect me, after spending hundreds of long years of my life ensuring that all Weeping Angels and creatures of the kind stayed WELL AWAY from my TARDIS, that I would just _let_ , nay, _invite_ one inside? 'Oh yes, this Angel has tried to kill us significantly less, so let's bring it in for a spot of tea!'"  
"With that kind of power, you could rejuvenate her," Clara smiled mischievously. "Then she would never have to bother the elderly or us ever again, and the thing you set out to do here in the first place would be solved, wouldn't it smart guy?"  
The Doctor inhaled so he could gather a sufficient protest, then faltered, then tried again, then faltered once more. "You know I really hate it when you're right." "But," he said, pointing accusingly at the Weeping Angel, "This is a privilege. Not a right. As soon as you are well enough to time travel on your own, you're leaving. Understood?" He walked backwards into the TARDIS, bumping his bum on the handle, but pretending like it didn't phase him. Clara was behind him. He stood at the door and held his hand in disdainfully before blinking. _This goes against everything,_ he wrinkled his nose, _but there's no doubt about it that this...thing saved our lives._ When he opened his eyes, the Angel was inside the TARDIS, curtsying to him. "There's no need to rub it in," he grumbled.  
"She's being polite, now you do the same!" Clara scolded.  
"I'm not taking the two of you to a beach as if we're on some jolly holiday!" The Doctor barked. "If the Angel wants to explain herself, she can use the console here." He pulled out an extended keyboard and swiveled the screen to face them. When he stepped away, the Angel was instantaneously there, frozen in place with remaining fingers poised above the keys.  
"I will NEVER get used to that!" the Doctor shivered and tugged on his lapel.  
"Perhaps we shouldn't watch so that she can do her thing?" Clara said as she raised her hand to the Doctor's face. They waited until the sound of clacking keys ceased.  
The message on the dashboard read:  
"I am a very old Angel. Even among other Angels, I am rich in years. I have been feeding a long time, finding new sources and gaining new experiences. You may not know this, Doctor, but when an Angel feeds on potential energy, they have access to memories - not images, places or people, but emotions. Experiences felt and gleaned. I have seen kindness. I have seen vengeance. I have seen cruelty. I have seen humility. I have seen all."  
"Yes," the Doctor crossed his arms. "It's what makes Weeping Angels such excellent killers. The more they feed on their victims the more they learn. It is how they hide so well as statues, it is how they have grown patient."  
"Don't be rude, she saved our lives," Clara nudged him with her elbow. The Doctor allowed himself a sidelong glance at Clara before returning to glaring daggers at the Weeping Angel in his ship.  
The Dashboard lit up with a new message:  
"Perhaps, Doctor, the Angels are drawn to you most because you are perplexing. You have started and ended great wars. You have saved entire races as easily as you have doomed them. You are yourself an anomaly, even among the Time Lords. Not only that, but the energy that you yourself give...of lives possibly lived around and through you...of histories that you have ended by "correcting" them. It amounts to a vast amount of power barely comparable to anything else seen in this universe. By Angels' standards, at least."  
"How do you know so much about me?" The Doctor asked suspiciously. "Is this from your time spent at Bad Wolf Bay?" He blinked purposefully.  
The new message on the dash read:  
"Yes. I have learned much from the Elderly. I initially came there to seek refuge from the other Angels, to find a secure food source without being discovered. As meager as it was, I maintained it for years before I was followed. As you may know, we travel in numbers."  
"You hunt in packs, you mean," The Doctor interrupted moodily.  
"But," the message went on, "as I fed on their memories, I grew to know humans. I grew to understand them. A chance encounter with one of them brought me to Bad Wolf Bay, and so came not only an additional source of nourishment, but an understanding of you, Doctor. An understanding of why it is worth suffering for them."  
The Doctor gazed on The Angel's wounds anew. They took on a new meaning.  
"Do you see now, Doctor?" Clara put her hands on her hips, cocking her chin to one side. "Do you understand?"  
"Thank you," the Doctor held out his hand. "For helping us."  
"For helping Tessie," Clara too held out her own hand.  
"I suppose you'll want to go back then."  
The Angel, in the blink of an eye, was holding both their hands tenderly and smiling kindly. The message on the dashboard behind it simply read "Please".  
"Well then," the Doctor said, reaching for the hatch. "I'll give you a few moments. That should do, give you back your wing and what not."  
He turned his back on the Angel and Clara watched him go to the hatch, so the Angel had plenty of time to bar the hatch with a hand. It swung around the console and a new message read "I should like to return as I am. My scars are a reminder that I am different. That I am not them. Thank you for letting me speak to you. That is all I wished."  
The Doctor rose to his feet slowly, and went to the door, opening it wide. "You _are_ different. Different is good. Perhaps maybe you'd like to nick that sledgehammer off the receptionist if you get the chance, eh? Comes in handy in a pinch."  
"I'm sure she'll keep that in mind," Clara snickered.  
The Angel placed a gentle half-chipped hand on The Doctor and in the next moment was halfway around the corner of the building. She was heading back to the Garden.  
"Well that was fun!" Clara brightened up, moving back to the console.  
"That was definitely...something alright," the Doctor rubbed his chin.  
"Where are we off to next? I could go for somewhere quiet this time. Who knew an old folk's home would be so...chaotic?"  
"How about Raxacoricofallapatorius?" The Doctor grinned crookedly, reaching for the controls.  
"Are you making that up?" Clara asked.  
The Doctor looked over his shoulder, but didn't see her and nearly fell over when she appeared to his other side. "Stop that!" he said. "Please! You'll give me a heart attack doing that, you will. I had enough of a Time with the Angels for that."  
"You'd still got the other one," she sneered.  
"Raxacoricofallapatorius it is!" The Doctor pulled a lever and the TARDIS started making its whooping noises as it dipped out of the time stream continuum. It jerked forward.  
"Are you ever going to fly this thing smoothly?" Clara yelled, bracing herself on a railing.  
"That's part of the fun! Geronimo!"


End file.
